Unburdened of their passengers The taxis have all scattered The hawkers move their tables out They'll be selling no more leather The Oslo Queen is set to sail From the Port of Buenos Aires The ropes are thrown and the big horn moans As she slips out of the harbor

The stowaway is keeping still In the dark of his container With a blanket and a flashlight And a picture of his sweetheart He's rationing his batteries But right now he can't resist her Standing there with her long brown hair In that Che Guevara t-shirt

As the contents of his wallet show His plan's a little sketchy Three hundred bucks and the bad address Of a cousin in Miami In a couple months with a little luck He'll be wiring home some money And even if they send him back It'll make a damn good story

Late at night he ventures out Each time a little farther Emboldened by his wanderlust His boredom, and his hunger'Til he's standing out on the open deck Searching for la Cruz del Sur But by-and-by the sky he knows Has yielded to another

The moon shines on the shipping lanes Off the coast of Venezuela And as he looks out at the oilers Riding heavy up to Texas He sings a little to himselfLuna, luna, luna llena While the moon, a word he's yet to learn, Betrays him to the cameras

Now he's somewhere in Dade County And six weeks without a lawyer On the basis of the evidence They could keep him there forever The guy with the cuban accent says "Do you recognize this picture?" And there she is with her long brown hair And that Che Guevara t-shirt